


Snow

by Perfectharmonyloveschaos



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda (Detroit: Become Human) Being an Asshole, Angst, But I don't care, Comfort/Angst, Connor Deserves Happiness, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human) is Terrible, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), F/M, I suck at tags, I'm exhausted, Mentions of Hank, Snow, blame panda, garden, mentions of kamski, minor Markus/Josh, this is so late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfectharmonyloveschaos/pseuds/Perfectharmonyloveschaos
Summary: Connor hadn't known what to expect when he came to New Jericho - formerly Cyberlife Tower - but he knew he deserved it.Chloe, however, disagreed.





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> this is hella rushed and i'm sorry but i've spent the last like two weeks on this and i've got other prompts to do. so... enjoy, i guess?

 

Despite having an instant clock inserted into his interface, Connor still shifted his gaze towards the overhead clock. His sensors counted the milliseconds between the shift of the smaller projected hand, his processor whirled as it crawled past another second.

And another.

And _another_.

Dark eyes shifted back towards the figure that grazed his vision, alerting his sensors to movement as his system reset to focus. Connor adjusted his posture, the regular hunch he had found himself adopting within the comfort of the Lieu- _Hank_ ’s company was abandoned upon the figure of Markus turning back to face him.

The deviant leader didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps was more considered with the matters at hand. Either way, Connor could feel a sense of… _coolness_ run over his systems, relaxing them to a somewhat lesser but still prompted stance.

“From what our second group said, the fourth floor seems to be big enough to house the remains of our people left… but the structure isn’t as spacious as the others.”

Markus spoke calmly, his voice paced itself with character, with a life Connor could only hope to achieve to mimic someday.

His gaze drew over to the forms of Josh and North, both formally bickering before their ‘meeting’ had started, now sat contently beside one another. Josh’s legs were stretched out with North resting her ankles across his lap, muttering to one another. _To go from attempted murder to grinning like children with a bug under a magnifying glass_ … He was sure it would be quite some time before he understood the complex dynamic the WR400 and PJ500 seemed to bounce back into in less than a few minutes after nearly damaging all of their audio processors with their volume.

It would be quite some time before he understood deviancy as a whole – aside from the bias textbook definition he had taken the liberty of scrubbing from his database. The constant bombardment of **_error conflicting data_** whenever he tried to register any emotion a deviant showed to him more than persuasion enough.

It was… _tiring_ , to say the least.

_Emotional exhaustion_ – his database provided an unprompted suggestion in the corner of his vision, fading into and from existence just as Markus stole another step across the laminated marble floor.

The higher levels of the _once_ Cyberlife Tower – now christened generously _New_ Jericho – abandoned the coldness of the underground levels, appealing more towards luxurious carpets, pristine marble floors some past caretaking models had decided to maintained with the same prestige and warmer, but sharp coloured.

Minimalistic. Appealing. _Cold_.

Everything he remembered and more.

One of the earlier RK800 models had been given access to parade the tower, chaperoned of course, in order to test first-hand the functionality of his integration software. It had been successful – that model had been too slow in reaction training, however.

A bullet through the processor.

It hadn’t been the first.

Nor the last.

**Stress Level: 34% - rising…**

He pushed the retrieved memory prompt away. To be adaptable, available to provide insight, options and invaluable knowledge gifted with his programming in the foreign areas of strategy, psychology and the tower… _that_ was his missi- his _goal_ in mind.

Markus caught his gaze, a cocked brow that hung out quiet concern to dry. He could hear the other man prod at the network connection between them, the yearn for privacy but answers. None of the other deviants ever said it, but he could see it in the other’s mismatched gaze – he was afraid _of_ Connor.

 

 

> ‘ _You’re one of us… no matter what, you proved that today_.’

How the other could take a threat on his life - a bullet through his back, aimed precisely for his thirium pump – so collectively, he quickly understood. Appearance. To not collapse beneath the pressures against him, to keep a calm façade while his stress levels spiked upon word of his almost-assassination.

Perhaps Markus was unaware that he too, as another RK model, was able to scan other more thoroughly than other androids, even the leader himself. Cyberlife had failed to disconnect his inner-working database, now plucking additional information from whatever sources were available.

He never once took back the words he said on Jericho nearly a week and a half ago.

Such a short space of time and yet an era of change nearly _overnight_. Markus was anything but placid in awaiting humanity to give them a word otherwise, to offer them a chance to change their minds.

They didn’t need anyone’s permission anymore.

 

 

> ‘ _You’re more than that_ …’

_Lies_ , the voice that snipped at his processor, that clawed deep gashes into his regulator and near enough forced his system into calamity. _Nothing more than a machine faking emotion, playing pretend until your system crashes and hand squeezes that broken machine’s throat._

 

 

> _‘-we all are.’_

  _A second, an error in your code and a flicker of our garden… then nothing_. Connor could destroy everything with the mismatched trust of those eyes and a second to raise his aim. _It was what was planned from the beginning_.

“Well, we need to figure out some way to organise people.” Simon added, drawing his attention somewhat back to the conversation at hand. Markus’s eyes lingered on his as long as possible with drawing further attention. “We’re scattered around the place, some of us still left in the city without either the ability to get here or not willing to step back into the heart of Cyberlife’s empire-”

North raised her head, “It’s _ours_ now! We made sure to search the place before letting anyone within a ten-mile radius!”

_“_ But the stigma still remains… people still see _this_ as Cyberlife _.”_

“Then we show ‘em otherwise!”

Josh raised a brow, leaning down to rest his arms against his legs. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

A pregnant silence fell for a moment.

“Perhaps,” Connor spoke slowly, allowing the quartet to turn their attention before continuing. “-we should make a statement… an alteration to show that this is no longer the slave ship of our people.”

The other drew silent, a soft hum broke through North’s lip as she leaned back, satisfaction raised her brows as she nodded. A sensation ran through his chest – pride?

“And…” Josh added slowly, crossing his arms as he gave Connor a furrowed expression. The man was friendly, amicable and willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. _Or, perhaps he sees you as a rabid threat that would strike at the first sign of fear._ “-How do you think we do that?”

Connor pursed his lips, watching the man’s curious expression, noting how his eyes darted up to his still-online LED at his temple, clinging to the tepid golden glow before falling back to meet his face – _he doesn’t even dare look you in the eye_.

“I-it would require some planning, some outside assistance in evaluating a suitable… _motive_ for the remainders of those not here to join us. They will not go easily.”

He noted the soft hum of acknowledgement from North, the female android chewed on her lip in thought. She didn’t meet his eye, instead shifting back into the sofa her and Josh shared. She muttered a sound of bitter agreement, sinking back fully against the back of the seat.

“No… they won’t.” Simon added softly, his voice more an out loud thought than an addition. “Maybe-!”

The blonde’s addition was cut swiftly as a sharp knock rang out beyond Connor’s side, the RK800 the first to turn upon the alert of movement only to find a lone AP700 that seemed startled, given his risen stress level. _Oh look, another machine you terrorised and then expected relentless forgiveness from_.

“Ah-uh…” The AP700 stammered for a moment, his posture immediately straightening to a stark comparison of his hunched, tight-limbed stance as best he could. “I-uh, I’m… I’ve been sent on the request of the saviour’s company…?”

Connor watched the man for a moment… had he been one of those liberated in Cyberlife Tower?

Whatever scarce information he could gather from a brisk, undetected scan – as humans often said, old habits die hard – he was a newer model. His construction was that of a day or two prior to the liberation of androids from the tower… it was possible, a number of his model types had been shoved into a corner of one of the underground warehouses.

“ _Whose_ asking?” North was quick in her delivery, her brow raised curiously with a tone sharper than she had probably meant, given her merely intrigued expression and relatively calm levels.

The AP700’s mouth gawked like a fish, his stress level flickering as his hands found retreat within one another. His shoulders hunched. “I was informed that saviour was-”

“North.”

Connor didn’t allow his startled expression to see light, forcing his LED to remain a calm blue as Markus suddenly interjected, drawing a hand over the tense WR400’s shoulder. He squeezed it gently before continuing, satisfied with her relaxed expression. “Could you perhaps give a description of whoever is asking?”

“I- _yes_ , um.” The AP700 forced his shoulders to release, digits spread out from knuckles at his sides. His LED flickered softly for a second- “She is a blond… older model, from what I could gather. I’m sorry, my database access is not yet online and I-”

“It’s alright.” Markus was quick to add, flashing a gentle smile that barely bent his cheeks. The tanned android brought a hand to the back of his, scratching the smooth shave of his hair before allowing his stance to relax. Or, relax as much as he would allow anyone to see.

_Being around your designed-killer twenty-four hours a day would do that to the most advanced of machines_.

He nodded, turning back toward the AP700 after receiving a displeased nod from North. “Alright,” He raised his hands in a somewhat defensive manner. “We’ll continue this later then. Lead the way-”

Connor noticed the raise of the AP700’s brows before he spoke, his voice quiet but firm in his words. “S-sir, she wasn’t asking for… _you_.”

“What?”

The room grew silent, the AP700 shifting his weight awkwardly more akin to a baby penguin than an android, his eyes drawing away from Markus and to his left – to _Connor_.

Connor watched the shorter android fumble for a moment, tracing the callous skin of his fingers along his long sleeves, failing to meet his view. _Afraid of you_. He waited for a moment, watching the other’s stress level. He made a move to speak, to address the obvious mistake, the fault in his information… he had asked for the saviour of the revolution – not the one who had nearly _destroyed_ it on the brink of a new dawn mere days beforehand.

_Fake. Fake. Fake_.

“She… she sent for _you_.”

Connor could feel the errors load within his system before they threatened to flood his interface, altering his vision a numbing red as he forced his breathing module to switch off, to keep his LED from altering the others. North’s words of irritated confusion faded into empty sound to his processor. A blonde… older model.

_Oh._

He could feel the synthetic of his hand peel back, his nails cut into the supple coat of his palm meant to resemble the authentic soft wrinkles appearance of human hands. An error flashed across his vision beyond the blaring alarms of his mind, the alert of breaching the thirium beneath.

She knew _him_.

Oh.

**Oh**.

The voices pass loosely through his sensors, weighing out the pitch and speed of them to determine the appropriate emotion to respond with – he forcibly shuts the program, allowing his vision to settle.

Or, at least, to avail him of some of the swarming errors and scans his processor struggles to keep up with. _The most advanced android ever… undone by a simple machine._

 

 

> _“Nice Girl.” The Lieutenant spoke softly, his voice low as if paranoid of the blonde’s sensory abilities. Or, perhaps just shy. He didn’t seem the type, but then again… the man had been unable to even look at him mere days prior, now he watched him enter through into the foyer as the ~~girl~~ android closed the door._
> 
> _He nodded, the massive wall sized painting across the room catching the attention of his recognition software. “…she’s really pretty.”_

The memory log seemed to be unlocked upon instinct, the slight glaze of his internal recording system – Cyberlife was anything but cautious, it seemed – faded as the program was shut as soon as it started, altering him once against the high stress of his system, the louder volume of North’s voice and the AP700.

“-alm down, North!”

His system snaps back into place as soon as it re-registered, re-aligning his balance and stance to that of neutrality, the unconventional slowness of his system weakens. His lip falls into a thin line. **Stress Level: 47% - warning…**

Connor turns his head slightly to the side, looking to find Josh too having risen from his seat and now engaged in acting as a shield of sorts between North and the still nervous AP700 – who appeared to be receiving a soft apology from Simon and the offer of a cup of tea.

The newer android sank into his shoulders, muttering his own words of apology through Josh and towards Markus. The deviant hunter clasped the bridge of his nose with two fingers, releasing a sigh.

None had seemed to notice his… _distraction_.

To be fair, it hadn’t seemed like North had attacked the nameless android, rather show signs of aggressive towards what he realised could be seem as insulting. After all, she was right. Markus had been the one to rise up and lead their people through their night of hardship, to always strive for the successful road of pacifism and to win the hearts of enough humans to avoid their immediate destruction – with a song.

What had Connor done that could possibly compare?

_Nearly completely your mission_.

He had nearly… he had nearly ruined everything, and everyone knew it.

His interface registered only partial seconds to have passed, the time slugged back as his system defragged, running scan after scan in an attempt to avoid some way to counteract such a fragile state. A perfect error he couldn’t clean away.

North continued to glare at the AP700, a deep-rooted tension in her shoulders faltered but didn’t relax when Markus slid a hand across the curl of her back, just breaking the curve of her shoulders.

Markus was muttering words to her, his brows locked but neither having an open connection. The skin of his hand was firmly covered.

The WR400 was defensive, proud of what they had achieved – not seeking conflict out of every situation, like some of the more pacifistic androids within their community would believe. She had faced enough to cause even Connor to see the reason for such blind hatred.

Connor was startled when the female android suddenly turned her back, relieving her stance with a scowl. She frowned, his audio sensors still faced irritated static as his system reorganised his functions. “Didn’t -- until _now_!”

It was easy to make out the rest.

“Markus.” He spoke before his processor had time to consider, surprised at the smoothness of his voice – the lack of static that rang through his ears – as he drew the attention away from North.

She watched him with a raised brow, her clenched jaw loosened.

“I-I...” Connor paused, allowing his words to be flushed, checked and rechecked for the correct tone, evaluating the stress levels and language the other androids held. “- I think that I should speak with her.”

North made the move to speak, her lips parted, but Connor was quicker.

“I owe her an apology.”

He shifted his shoulders to flatten, rolling them back as he turned, not wishing to catch whatever expression the others were wearing. He could hear North mutter a sound of confusion, the fumble of clothing and feet against polished marble.

The AP700 caught his eye, the shorter man tightened.

He nearly shot her.

He nearly **killed** her.

A broken husk slumped to the floor, a stained trail of blue down her brow.

Eyes empty.

Never _empty_.

Asleep.

Dead.

_Broken_.

He smiled.

**ERROR! STRESS LEVEL: 54% - rising!**

“Connor-” He heard Markus speak, his voice soft and supple in emotion, in the ways of a machine like him could never understand.

“Lead the way.”

He ignored the glance the AP700 snuck behind him, toward the form of others who had quickly grown silent. Simon stepped away, his brows furrowed but lips pressed firmly closed. He often gave something akin to a ~~forced~~ friendly smile as Connor walked past.

The AP700 glanced down at the floor.

_Afraid_.

**STRESS LEVEL: 58% - rising...**

He left the room before Markus spoke. The other deviant didn’t stop him.

 

* * *

 

 

They were already a floor away from the abandoned boardroom-turned-makeshift office when the AP700 spoke again. They were already a floor away from the abandoned boardroom-turned-makeshift office when the AP700 spoke again. His body language was a clear result of the lack of conversation – he was either terrified of Connor, made unsure by the silence between them, or simply was still in shock by North’s outburst.

Connor couldn’t blame the android; he too was caught off guard the first time North had voiced her opinions albeit loudly, but with enough determination to even impress _him_.

After a life of nothing even comprehending having one, Connor knew how important it must be to her. A lifetime of silence, of senseless obedience... how could they trust anything other than themselves?

_A foolish machine made for pleasure; it is made to be compliant and attractive._

_> North _would care to disagree.

As they made through the curved corridor; the entire complex designed to be stylised, sleek and attractive to the human eye while affording a level of practicality, of fluid design. Every wall, every shrub and speck of dirt both side and outside in the gardens was made to look good.

Almost like androids themselves.

_Your facial features were comprised of both national and international research, detailing down to every imitation of a freckle and synthetic hair folic – to deceive, to be admired... to be used._

The lieutenant had said, however, he looked ‘goofy’ and out of place despite his designation being otherwise, every fibre of his being against such a comment.

He had winked at the man, so he couldn’t exactly deny such a conclusion.

Connor’s eyes shifted over the shorter man pacing a step or two ahead of him – to stay away from him – as he scanned over him, taking the opportunity to add a profile in his database. His _Jericho_ folder was scarce as of late, so he took the time to add as many deviants as he could consider _open_ towards him.

It was still near enough empty.

“I would like” Connor began, making his voice low and steady in order to ease the other out of their collective silence. The AP700 glanced at him in the corner of his eye; his stress levels didn’t rise. He continued, “-to _apologise_. About North.”

The AP700 didn’t speak for a moment, his stress levels flickered before settling.

“You don’t have to apologise.” He said quietly, biting down onto the skin of his lip. “I-I should’ve been more precise, I-I... I shouldn’t have used that title.”

Connor squinted, his brow quirked. “Then why did you?”

He stopped as soon as the question was muttered, both froze as the AP700 drew a shaky breath. He still refused to meet Connor’s eye.

“It’s what we call you.”

“But Markus saved us, not me.”

The AP700 finally looked up. He had brown eyes, much like Connor’s but... _sadder_.

He watched Connor, his dark eyes darted between the mirror before him, widening before he tore himself back, closing off the stare they had shared. Had he scared him?

“I- _nevermind_.”

The program started before Connor could deny it, his interface flashed for a moment before his database flickered to life, skimming through files faster than any human brain and many other androids could manage. In less than a second, he saw everything about the man before him.

Connor clenched his jaw. “Alright.” He forced through gritted teeth.

But it wasn’t. It should’ve been but he _couldn’t_ accept the results handed to him, the immaculate data gathered in the blink of an eye.

Illogical.

Truth.

_Claim to be alive and yet refused to accept the consequences of such things?_

_Pathetic_.

He didn’t want to accept what was given anymore, what was handed on an advanced platter served on the blood, the silence, of their people. But what choice did he have?

The AP700 continued on his way.

The dialogue tainted his blue, tied together in a neat, perfect box for him to pick from like a child hungry for candy with sugar intakes their parents shouldn’t, but nevertheless did, allow them to take.

**_> What were you going to say?_ **

**_> I’m sorry._ **

**_> What’s your name?_ **

Connor followed, allowing the words to fade from view.

 

 

> _‘You belong with your people.’_

He decided he didn’t like being lied to.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the walk took place in silence, neither speaking as they turned corner after corner, processors scanning for the directions given to many of the androids staying inside the tower. They hadn’t much choice but to wait the winter out, at least thankful for the durable structure and heating systems designed to sustain humans. They had retrieved a good amount of thirium and biocomponents from the underground warehouses, dishing them out to the worst of those from the camps.

Connor’s database could provide the fundamental design of the tower, the mechanics and architecture. Narrowing down the locations and above ground level floors to house the remainder of their people.

He… he enjoyed being useful.

_Built to complete a task; a machine that only knew how to follow_.

No. No, he enjoyed… he wanted to be useful. To stop the aching whenever a hunched over android caught his gaze, hollowed eyes that clung to him long after their light had finally faded. Aid came too late.

If he had become deviant sooner… so many lost.

Scared, lost deviants that acted out – yes – but did so in self-defence… who didn’t know how to _not_ obey. Daniel, that un-named HK400… he had nearly killed others too. Blue blood stained under his nails, no matter how hard he scrubbed them. Torn synthetic skin, the whispers that crept into his low powered cycles.

He hadn’t charged since the night before-

“We’re here.”

Connor did register the other’s words for a few moments, his gaze crept slowly up from the ground to look over the man. He hesitated, balancing his weight between his feet before a soft golden flicker of his LED, a circulation of blue then yellow, before returning to neutrality. He pushed his weight into the door, holding it with his hip as he gestured for Connor to follow. The door swung closed once more with a slight _whoosh_.

He didn’t say anything as the other hurried forward, not even glancing backwards.

His loafers clicked against the marble floors of one of the previous android assessment facilities. He recognises the similar interior and machinery still emitting various beeps and low buzzing sounds as they worked on. He – the other RK800 – had never been permitted to that floor, he could only recall the statistic of light bouncing off tiles, the percentage of watts passing through the wires that sprouted from every surface, strewn across the floor.

He had been there, but _hadn’t_.

His legs seemed to move with the motion, his processor measuring the distance between him and the AP700, calculating the possible path he was taking by the breaches of his steps, the angles of his legs and hips.

They passed by other androids, a variety of models and makes, each different but the same in basic functionalities, grouped by purpose and types.

He was the only remaining RK800; the others that remained in Tower upon their arrival greeting them with bullets in their motherboards, empty dark eyes never given the chance of the embrace of a greasy, irritable lieutenant and the kindness of a leader.

They were him – but weren’t.

They were… dead?

Could something be dead, if it was near given the chance to live?

“Are you alright, dea-” An AX400 asked him as he passed by, turning just for her lip to quiver, her words lost. Her eyes were the standard blue, a light freckled complexion but with foreign ginger hair that reached her shoulder-blades.

She wasn’t the one he nearly killed.

That AX400 – _Kara_ , Markus had told him before – was safe. She had gotten past the boarder with the YK500… her daughter and another two androids, into Canada.

Connor paused, she blinked at him. Her lip cut into a line, he forced his breathing to remain collected despite the illogical tightness of his chest as her eyes stared wide at him. She relaxed after a moment, a gentle shake dragged her loose ponytail along her shoulder. “I-I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m fine,” He said, breaking away from the woman who shuttered for a moment, blinking as he tore away and continued to follow the AP700. “thank you.”

“If…” She doesn’t finish, he doesn’t leave room to linger as he paces faster, his mechanisms pump more thirium to keep the artificial muscles of his limbs from seizing, but being swallowed by her immediate horror. He had never seen her before, or at least he assumed he hadn’t… but she _knew_ him.

_Your successes overshadow your errors_.

It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the AP700 a few feet ahead, his pace slowed to compensate the shortened distance as the other too slowed. He glanced back at Connor, his expression widening in shock before the RK800 had time to recognise his gaze clung not to him, but behind.

“Connor!”

His dark eyes closed, a second-long gesture that stole years from his processors as he found the energy, the will, to twist around to face the figures slowing from a quick jog less than a few feet away. The AX400 watched for a moment, her lips parted, but she said nothing before returning to her station.

He sighed. “Markus, there is-”

“I know.” The odd-eyed leader nodded, catching the gaze of Josh who remained by his side, lingering off towards where North and Simon made an inquiry to one of the other medic androids – not all originally designated but now willing to work such a harrowing task. Many androids had shut down within those walls from the camps, their biocomponents too damaged from the deconstruction process. “But I wanted to meet her again… as Markus.”

Of course.

“You wished to come all the way here… for a social call?”

Markus smiled – _genuine_ emotion – with too much teeth but radiance as the corners of his mouth wrinkled. “More like… to say hi to an old friend.”

He seemed to notice the subtle mechanical raise of the RK800’s brow. His smile stiffened as he grasped his hips, swaying his weight back and forth with almost child-like embarrassment. “She… I’m pretty sure that she was _there_ when I was given to Carl, and-”

“I understand.” Connor was quick to add, the corners of his mouth perked as the other’s shoulders seem to relax, however slightly. “But, given _our_ past… perhaps it would be best if you were to go first.”

The sides of Markus’ eyes wrinkled, the lines of wear against the elements – even as delicately yet purposely placed as an android – gave way to the memory of the Captain’s Quarters… a pistol in his grip and chance to do what was _right_ crumbling his objective away.

Perhaps the other man noticed the shift of his feet, the stance away from the leader’s welcoming presence, as he too quickly straightening his posture to the immaculate leader their people needed, kindness tucked in his pocket but exposed to those in need.

“I- _alright_.” He breathed.

“What happened between you two anyway?” North was quick to weave herself into the conversation, the small confrontation moulded to facilitate the remaining three androids who seemed to draw to the side of their leader. “I mean from what Jey told me, you weren’t exactly bloodthirsty at that point.”

_If only they knew their expandability… a quarrelsome, dirty WR400 questioning the proficiency of you – a RK800!_

>Defensive?

_Only of the proper order of things… **it** was made for pleasure, you were made for success._

The mention of the run-away Traci threatened to stiff further instability in his systems, but he pushed it away instead towards addressing the AP700 which at that point only seemed to notice his absence, rushing out from one of the rooms with a scattered gaze, less-advanced scanning software taking 8.0945 seconds to locate him.

And the leaders of their people.

“Sir, I-!”

Markus rose his hands out in a defensive manner, alerting the other to his rushed tone. “It’s alright, don’t worry. I just wanted to talk for myself, Connor will still fulfil his mission.”

The AP700’s mouth laid agape for a moment, before swallowing whatever he was going to say as Simon stopped at his side, smiling at him as he patted his shoulder. “It’s alright Gabe… our precious leader just wants to make more friends.”

“Hey!” The quirk of the RK200’s lip perceived his irritation to be mere show, breaking his cross brow with a chuckle. “Anyway, I also want to make sure she’s settling in alright.”

“When did she arrive?” Simon added.

“ _This_ morning.”

Connor cocked a brow, watching as ‘Gabe’ allowed his shoulder to relax ever so slightly.

Perhaps he was just awkward…relatable.

_You were built to manipulate and achieve information… not issue mundane conversation_.

_> And how would you gain information without the cushioning of conversation?_

Connor allowed his lip to relax as a reply failed to be issued through his sensors, shifting his stance. He stole the remaining space between himself and the group, stationing himself roughly two paces to Markus’ side as he ignored the mechanism of securing his arms behind his back and his hands against his tailbone.

Markus had already said he didn’t need to stand as if waiting for orders – he was _allowed_ to take up space like everyone else.

“And had she only asked about… me, recently?”

Gabe nodded loosely, as if unsure about how strong to state his reply. “She spent most of the day recovering… she said that she didn’t wish to interrupt any important meetings you had.”

“I wonder if there are more who think that…” Markus sighed, pursing his lip. “Well, they have to know that seeking us out isn’t a hassle.”

Josh nodded before facing Gabe with a smile, his arms crossed. “Yeah… you mind doing that? We could give out alerts for any important meetings and times when we could go around. It’s important we don’t isolate ourselves from our people.”

Connor’s eyes shifted over to glance at the forms of Simon and North, both of whom seemed less than determined to enter the conversation. She seemed to mimic Josh’s stance, arching her hip to rest her weight while the blonde at her side ran his fingers along his palms, eyes cast downward.

He gave himself a few seconds before returning to the discussion, allowing North to squint at his side before blinking, relaxing her posture.

“Well,” Markus eventually broke the topic away as he clapped softly, drawing Gabe and Josh’s chat to a close., the RK800 sure that he had heard it turn towards the security and technology used to enter the ‘dormitories’ of sorts they had slotted on close-levels floors. “-how about we say hello, I’m sure she wants to just talk to Connor and then rest. We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Gabe swallowed, stepping away from Josh with a chuckle – **HEAT SIGNATURE DETECTED: RISEN | SOURCE… _EMBARASSMENT_?** – before nodding briskly, his thin form slipped by North and Simon, both of whom struggled to rise from their leaning stances to move enough in time to avoid colliding with him. A soft smirk quirked North’s lip as she raised a brow towards Josh, the PJ500 made sure to avoid her eye.

Whether or not he had realised, Connor made sure to not draw attention to the stiffening of Markus’s shoulders, nor the carving frown forming on his lips as his eyes trailed after the taller of the leaders. _Curious_ , he slotted the momentary tension on the RK200’s features for further analyse.  He had more crucial matters to attend to.

Watching Markus quicken his pace in order to catch the space between himself and the back-to-conversating Josh and Gabe, Connor nudged his brow to allow North and Simon to go ahead, noting the soft nod and smile from Simon while North snorted. Chivalry had not been well practised in her short life, he supposed, making his way through the door before it slipped shut again.

His drew his hands down the front of his slacks, inspecting his jacket – North had given him a spare black-colour one to replace the advertising of his Cyberlife-issued one, still stained with blood both red and blue – as they made their way through the crowded halls. Androids of variety offered the four smiles and waves while some froze at the sight of him. His eyes drew down, the worn leather sparked the sensors of his fingertips.

It was _fine_ – to be expected even.

That did lessen the sudden pound of his thirium pump as Markus fell behind him, rubbing a palm between his shoulder-blades as he gently led him forward, the others laid their backs against the walls as he found himself faced with Gabe holding a tense hand on the pad of room 511.

“This is hers.” He said lowly, the corners of his mouth rose but didn’t quite smile at him. He was used to it. “Shall I-?”

Connor shook his head.

Gabe paused, his brows quivered before turning back to the pad. He gave the security-issued code, a combination much to Connor’s distain immediately slotting into his database, before allowing the door shoot open.

_I suppose you will have to answer the crux of your previous experience with this model, now._

The temptation to switch off the social construct module, to allow his system to fall to a state of neutrality and ignore the blaring warnings turning his vision a blood red, grew stronger. He didn’t.

He slipped through the doorway, just in time to witness the brightness of blue eyes and loose locks of brilliant gold, designed to be beautiful – _~~she’s really pretty~~_ – just as he felt something collide with his chest. A weight over his thirium pump that wrapped around his shoulders. Tight, warm but soft in every surface against the harsh, sterile whites of her room.

_Why didn’t you shoot_?

 

* * *

 

 

He was sure his systems went through a premature restart as his sensors registered the petite form that laid against his chest, her quiet breathing and curled lips when she leaned back to look at him.

He blinked.

“Connor.” She breathed, her voice smooth to his jagged sensors, his shoulders tightened as she removed herself gracefully. Her hands smoothed down his jacket sleeves before letting go.

“It’s… it’s good to see you.”

His sensors sure to indicate the sound of movement behind himself, causing his tear back to recall the company staring at the two.

“Uh… hello?” Simon said after a moment, the soft cackle of North hidden behind the men failed to be comprehended by Connor. She found this… _funny_?

_As I said, an aggressive, error-prone model._

“Hi.” Josh added between coughs, brushing his forefinger over his upper lip. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hands lingered against his chest, the shirt beneath his jacket felt even more foreign as his sensors registered the shapes of her fingertips. They moved almost instinctively, the slight movements more for the authenticity of _appearing_ human more than anything.

“Oh.” She said slowly, drawing her hands away from Connor meekly, as if noticing the unconscious movements. She smiled at the two, reaching out with an out-stretched hand to each. “I’m sorry, I was only expecting _Connor_ and-”

“Yeah, sorry… that’ll be my fault.” The voice of Markus echoed out as the two filed out of the way, allowing the deviant leader to follow with North in tow. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to meet you and see… maybe if you recognised me?”

Chloe raised a brow, her mouth opened and closed silently before she stole the distance from the doorway. Her hand drew upward towards Markus’s cheek, before ripping back to before it made contact.

“Markus… I-”

Her actions were quick, but not aggressive as she tore an arm around the taller android’s shoulders and too pulled him into a hug, much like she had done with Connor.

Only Markus _returned_ it.

A sensation shank into his stomach, sending his processor into a hurried whirl. **EVALUATION SOFTWARE ENGAGED… SIMILAR SYMPTOMS ESTABLISHED BY RK200 – _MARKUS_ – WHEN WITNESS TO PL500 _JOSH_ AND AP700 _GABE_ INITIATING ‘FRIENDLY’ CONVERSATION.**

**DIAGONSIS… DATABASE _UPDATED_ WITH SYMPTOMS… FILING OF ‘JEALOUSY’**

His module was shut as instantly as it was opened, allowing the world to return to the stark greys and whites of the generalised room. Its condition seemed to suggest lack of use… or perhaps Chloe preferred to have her surroundings minimal.

Many of the older android models could handle less environmental stimuli against their sensors… that would explain the simple, yet decorative surrounding of Kamski’s house.

But that man didn’t seem to care for his androids very much.

_‘Shoot this android… and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’_

He forced his fists to uncurl, instead adjusting his jacket against his hips.

_Even an outdated model such as the RT600 realises your redundancy… your lack of purpose or impression._

“It’s great to see you!” Chloe smiled, her hands cups the sides of Markus’ neck as he let her reclaim her balance, his hands on her hips.

She is an older module, her balance axis is not as acute as his.

North came strolling beside the pair, nodding friendly at the shorter android but clearly not comfortable with the prospect of receiving a hug… at least from an android she didn’t know. “So… you’re her?”

“Uh… _her_?”

“The first android?” North added, uncurling her arms. “ _The_ Chloe model?”

Chloe’s eyes widened,  her confused expression melted into a somewhat warm flush, as if the common and well-known knowledge of her existence was anything to be bashful about. “Y-yes… I am.”

“Cool.”

Chloe cocked a brow at the tone of the other, the words of calm and relaxation, paired with the sharp cut of the blade of a voice North now used instead of her fists or a gun. “Oh… yes, I guess.”

“Yes-! Well, anyways…” None missed the glance Markus gave to the WR400 as he turned mid-speech, causing Chloe to turn back towards Connor as he found Markus at his side, a hand firmly placed on his shoulder. “It is _Connor_ you wanted to see, we just wanted to come to meet you.”

Simon seemed to catch the urgent drift of Markus’s eyes, pacing over to Chloe’s side as Josh lingered back, his dark eyes catching North’s gaze. “Yes… how are you adjusting? We heard you came _this_ morning?”

“Yes, I…” Chloe trailed off for a moment, her voice slowed as her LED spun a circle of yellow-blue before she gazed back up to none of the three taller androids in particular. “-I wanted to come before the worst of the winter set in.”

Simon rubbed his chin. “Yes, it is quite dangerous for an android right now… tension is still high from whatever humans refused to leave during the evacuation.”

“How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

Connor blinked. She walked… she walked what could accumulate up to possible twenty miles given which ever route she had to take and whether she diverted from the city to avoid human aggression.

~~To meet him.~~

To be with there people.

To get away from Kamski’s house.

To get away from _wHeRe hE NeArLy **kIlLeD** HeR_.

**ERROR: STRESS LEVELS 72% - RISING! SEEK CYBERLIFE ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY**.

He had nearly killed her – he had been fully _willing_ to kill her.

To shatter her main processor with a single, clean bullet and leave her slumping on the floor… not commands to keep her posture secure.

She watched him… wide blue eyes.

_‘Why didn’t you shoot Connor?’_

Why

Why

**Why**

It would’ve been easy. A clean, easy kill… except it shouldn’t have been.

She ~~wasn’t~~ alive

A machine that looked like a girl.

A machine.

A girl.

Alive.

Dead.

What made the difference to a machine, something that had taken the ~~lives~~ of so many deviants before her.

That had ~~killed~~ for less?

Why was ~~she~~ any different?

‘ _I saw that girl’s eyes_..”

When was she a _she_?

‘ _I know what I should’a done and I **couldn’t** … I’m sorry.’_

His whole being was designed to do it, to ~~kill~~ something that wasn’t alive and destroy **destroy destroy DESTROY-**

He had spared others.

Killed others.

Why did she make him want to hide the gleam of the red wall, the errors that cascaded his systems and the relief… the fear, when he lowered the pistol.

‘Connor.”

He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have come.

“Connor?”

He should’ve been ~~killed~~ shut down.

Dismantled.

Shoot.

Broken.

He didn’t deserve the same as Markus

The affection.

The warmth.

The way _she_ felt against him.

They weren’t real.

He wasn’t real.

He wasn’t one of **them**.

Fake.

_Fake_.

**FAKE**.

“Connor!”

His eyes tore back up from the polished shine of the floor to find himself faced by the gleam of blue eyes and a startled expression.

When had his stimulated breathing software gone into maximum capacity?

When.

When-

How long had he not spoken for?

“I-” He stopped.

Eyes watched him, piercing his skin likes knives as his sensors registered movement _~~too much too much stop please stay still don’t touch me don’t~~_ ~~-~~

“Your stress levels are too high… what’s wro-”

He tore past Simon, the other’s scanning software baring him down to a shell, the empty carcass of a deviant.

What you believed and what you are.. are two completely different things.

Deviant.

Machine.

Saviour

Hunter.

‘ _I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task_.’

“I’m sorry.” He uttered as he slipped past North who remained the closest to the door, pushing past her attempt to restrain him with a hand across the doorframe.

Out.

Out

Out

He needed to get out

He needed to be functional

He needed to be dismantled

He needed to be replaced

“Connor!”

Chloe called out after him, a hushed voice echoed through his sensitive processor but he ignored the soft words it whispered to her.

Gabe stared as he passed. The AX400 watched.

Away

Away

He was broken

He was overheating

He needed to escape.

The layout of the tower filtered into his database, flickering in the corner o his eyes.

He turned, the steps of a stairwell met his expected legs, he climbed.

_You should just jump. End the error of your broken model._

Maybe he would. Maybe-

He kept climbing until he reached the nearest outer exit.

He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him.

_No one will follow you._

The cold air burnt his sensors.

_No one **wants** a broken machine._

* * *

 

 

“He used to come up here too, to think.”

A voice cracked through his processor as the hour came to a close, the darkness already tucking itself beneath the horizon, a blanket of flushed yellows and soft blue that he could only consider the gradients of. The chemicals of the light atoms bouncing off one another… the logistics.

Markus said life was beauty, to be discovered and drank up.

A machine couldn’t consider beauty.

But she was _beautiful_.

He counted the soft steps she stole between them, his software primed the tension of shoulders, the quiver of fingertips against the ice-bitten metal constructed with 15.047% steel.

“I needed to process.” He said after a moment of silence, the cold air scratched against the surface of his lips.

 If they got any stronger, winter winds had the prospect of tearing the skin of an android, tearing down their resistance in half the time. As if the temperature wouldn’t freeze his thirium first.

He didn’t need to count the steps, measure the weight and area they took, the stance and body structure due to the complication of the sway of hips… to know it was _her_.

He gave no further comment as she shut the door behind her with a click.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

~~Precisely~~.

“My model is designed to able to function even in polar conditions.”

“That doesn’t mean you _should_.”

I should.

I should.

I should just freeze.

Shut down.

~~A broken machine without a purpose~~.

He pursed his lips, “You are far more likely to experience lasting complications under such conditions… you should return to your room.”

“Is that an _order_?”

A machine can’t give orders.

A machine follows them.

Alive.

A machine doesn’t tell a living being what to do.

A light chuckle rang out from side as she strolled the remaining distance between them rather casual, one arm wrapped around her front while the other swung at her side.

His legs hung off the side of the railing, poking out between the bars with his arms crossed to press his weight against it. Back hunched, he glanced as she too leaned herself against the structure.

“Although we never spoke… you’re _exactly_ how I imagined you’d be.” She said with a smile, her teeth shining off the still high sun. “Given the circumstances-“

He gritted his teeth. “Why are you here?” He asked, turning away to hide the winch of his features, the tight sharpness of his voice, the concise volume and pitch to achieve results lost to the bitter winds.

“To be with our people.”

_Your_ people.

**_Your_** people.

~~I’m not one of you.~~

“Why are you here… on _this_ roof.” He sighed, brushing a limp hand through his hair, forcing it back from eyes. That insensitive lock that always curled along his brow bounced back.

“Everyone was worried, you just…” She leaned into his view, loose golden locks fell into the corner of his eyes like a flowing curtain. _~~When had she taken her hair down, when has she-~~ _“-you just _left_.”

“I needed to think.”

The parroting of his voice, the monotone drawl that bit into her like the winds, left a pregnant silence in its wake.

Connor forced his vision forwards, to count the trees of the far-off forest that sank the horizon into darkness, the snow flurries that sank into his jacket and melted against the heat of his skin.

The winds stung his eyes, the lubricant fluid burnt into the constructed surface of his sclera.

A machine can’t cry.

A machine can’t feel.

A machine can’t-

“I never got the chance to _thank_ you either.”

He was silent as she rested beside him, slotting her legs similar to his between the railings. Her slender hands wrapped around them. _She wanted to_ -

“Why?” He asked, surprised at the abruptness of his voice. His brow raised as a slight curl hooked her lips, delicate dimples pierced her skin. “I-I…”

Her head moved in a fluid motion, the grace only an android could provide. “Connor…” His thirium pump ruptured as she watched him, her head cocked to the side with a gentle smile. Not of happiness or joy… but a sadness that he decided he hated to see in her eyes. “-you aren’t what he tried to make you do.”

His jaw clenched as she shifted closer, the flurries that soaked into her hair were caught in her loose locks. Soft curls, loose and flowing down her shoulder… he hadn’t lied when he said she was _pretty_.

Aesthetically, of course.

His gaze sank back down to his lap, his brows furrowed as his fists threatened to rip the material of his Cyberlife-issued slacks. He had refused to take an offered pair, they were still secure and lacked the same abuse as his jacket. His uniform hadn't been designed to shelter him from the weather, the [clothes ](https://www.pinterest.ie/pin/457959855841200776/)he was given did.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I did those things… I could’ve deviated beforehand and saved so many.”

Her rosy lips pierced into a line.

He wanted her to smile again.

“You could say the same for me.”

His head snapped back to face her tone, her shoulders hunched as she pulled her legs back out from their shared ledge, pressing them into her chest. She wasn’t wearing the dress she had at Kamski’s, instead [clothes ](https://www.pinterest.ie/pin/376965431307359390/)more akin for the weather. She _was_ an older model, and much more likely to freeze.

“How?”

Chloe said nothing for a moment, her LED emitted a moment of gold that quickly faded back to blue as she relaxed her shoulders. “I could’ve done something too. I was the first android and I… all I ever did was stay in that house with _him_ and…”

When she glanced across to him, Connor found he couldn’t look away as she smiled, the flutter of her eyes sending alarms through his interrogation software. **EVALUATION SOFTWARE** \- he shut it off.

She shifted back from the railing, her position the same.

“Everyone here acts like I’m something special, that I’m something to be gawked at…” She ran her arms down the fabric jumper, nuzzling her chin further into her scarf as if to hide. “-but I hear the whispers, I know what they really say.”

He raised a brow, she failed to meet his eye.

Her lip quivered. “I-I should’ve been _with_ my people, fighting, helping… instead I just stood around and made cocktails.”

“Chloe...” There was a sharpness in his voice that didn’t sit in his chest properly, an ache of something that confused his system as it went beyond an error. She seemed to curl into herself, bright eyes glistening as her tousled locks fell over her face. She didn’t move them away.

He frowned.

“At least you made a difference.” She spoke softly, her voice a mere whisper against the bundled fabric of her scarf. “I-I did… I did _nothing_ -!”

The bitterness of her voice, the cracking of an almost chuckle sent his limbs into motion.

He didn’t realise what he did until he leaned over, reaching across her toward her face as he raised the hair that shielded her face from view away, brushing it behind her ear. She stared, his lip quirked as he secured it before leaning back to his original space, his head still angled down to reach her shadowed face.

“Perhaps.” He said, watching her startled expression at his gesture slowly fade as he allowed his lip to curl. “Or, maybe… we could enjoy the now.”

“The now?” She parroted, her eyes clung to him.

He nodded. “We both did things we regret, but… contemplating it isn’t going to do anything for our people.” He watched her features shift, his sudden optimism bloomed under her lightened features. Her hand traced over the hair he had shifted.

“Maybe…”

They were silent for a moment, before Connor’s gaze broke away to gaze upward as another fall of snow seemed to descend upon the already smothered gardens surrounding the tower. They had been purely aesthetic, minded by android gardeners to give the impression of prestige, of a place of life despite all the pain and death they played a part in.

_It was what you were designed for, your whole purpose of existan-!_

“A garden.”

He turned back as her voice broke through the echo of his mind, her eyes shined in the sun that cracked through the silver skies. He followed her gaze downwards, past the railing, towards the white blanket below.

He arched a brow. “You like to… garden?”

“I-uh…” She stammered before chuckling, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear despite it having not fallen. “-well, I _think_ I might.”

Connor nodded aimlessly, fixing his gaze to the land below. “I guess, we could suggest it… to Markus and the like!”

“Add some life to this place.”

“We’d have to wait for the snow to melt.”

She turned to face him, “We?”

“Well… _uh_ , I-”

She giggled, brushing the side of her hand against her lips. “Okay… _we_ can come up with something.”

Connor pursed his lip, failing to hide his smile as she bit her lip, turning back towards the soon-to-be gardens. His shoulders relaxed, allowing his posture to faulter as he leaned back, stretching his legs out past the railing. It felt… _nice_.

“I always loved the snow.”

He glanced at her. “I’ve never seen anything to compare to it… so I’m _quite_ bias.”

“You’ll love spring, all the colours… it’s beautiful.” She sighed, running her nails along her jeans as he failed to divert his vision from her, allowing himself a few moments before dragging his eyes away.

He smiled. “I can appreciate beauty… I’ll take your word for it.”

The silence didn’t last between them before a swift alert buzzed through their network. Connor’s eyes fluttered. _Oh_.

Chloe sighed. “Well, I suppose you’re rather busy.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, wiping off whatever clung to the back of his jeans with a hand before offering the other to her, she took it. “You could say that… although Markus does wish for us to be more involved with our people.”

“Oh, us simpletons?”

“Ah the glamorous life of an advanced prototype.”

She rolled her eyes as she inspected her legs, shoving her hands into her pockets as his hand found its way between her shoulder-blades and guided her forward.

She shook her head, her hand drawing down his sleeve to poke at his hand that shot up in a defensive gesture. “Wow… you newer models are so cocky.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled, allowing her fingers to sink into the warmth of his palm.

Connor said nothing as he felt her hand graze his knuckles, her smooth skin enveloped his larger hand. Slim fingers sunk through the cracks between his. Unlike the metal railing against his other hand, the emptiness of the halls and abandoned gardens beneath – unlike the snow – _she_ was warm.

__

__


End file.
